


The Importance Of (Not) Being A Sibilant

by Yanex (orphan_account)



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Crowley Is A Pine Tree In Sunglasses, Crowley rests on ceilings, Crowley's lisp, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Pining, abuse of footnotes, and that's a headcanon, but he will NOT admit it, more footnotes than text
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-02-23 03:55:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23671939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Yanex
Summary: Crowley makes strange metaphors. And he’s self-conscious.Basically, he’s just tired.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	The Importance Of (Not) Being A Sibilant

-My dear, what’s with the lisp?

Crowley raised a perfectly natural elegant eyebrow[1] almost surprised that Aziraphale noticed.

-What about it?

Good Crowley, good job, a star to your name, pat on the shoulder. Don’t let him see, never let him see that blasted hurricane inside your damned corporation, that dread that fills your chest every time he stomps his pretty feet on your inner breast muscle, never let-

-You hold it back. You’ve never been so intent- and successful, may I add- in holding it back. I thought you rather enjoyed it, in the end. “Gives you a mysterious aura” and whatnot?

With a dismissive sound Crowley made his way up the wall[2], suddenly uncomfortable on the sofa, so very near the angel.

Aziraphale let him slither up and have his little game with physics, let him settle and stretch his limbs just right, waiting patiently for an answer.

-Just... figured out some stuff. You know, tried my hand a bit with humans. _That_ sense. Romantical sense. Or not even that. A platonic connection, a meeting of minds. Cause, yeah, felt like having company, y’know?[3]

He glanced down at his human-shaped companion, who looked a bit green around the gills.

Probably just the lighting. And the fact that his arm was basically on the lamp. Nothing to read into. Nothing to read at all.[4]

-So, I just, you know, started lurking around places on nights I didn’t meet with you, and just, danced. Let myself get chatted up. But then- maybe a little from alcohol in my system, and the setting, the sheer _sin_ rolling in waves out of the people in the establishments -the lisp just came out. A little off-putting to some, a tad endearing to others, but what disturbed me is that _no one knew._ And, I don’t know, I’m making a big deal out of nothing, but I just felt... alone. And I came to associate the lisp with the phonetic sibilant, no reason at all. And I found a strange- likeness, with me?

Aziraphale creased his eyebrows, staring at him as though he sprouted a fourth head.

-So, you... compared yourself with a... consonant?!

-Yeah? Ok, I know, it doesn’t make sense, except that it does! Really. Ok, hear me out. Sibilant, yeah? S sound. One of the most frequent in the English language, widely spread and present in basically every dialect around the Earth. And the only sibilant sound, no fellow consonants with the same place of articulation, right? One sibilant, just good old S. And so, I realized…yeah, pretty similar. And I decided that I had to cut the lisp.

-But _why_?

Crowley at that point absolutely did _not_ get a bit misty eyed. And he was not wallowing in self-pity. Nor feeling sorry for himself.[5]

-Because Aziraphale. Because I don’t want to be a sibilant anymore. Because- just like it- I’m everywhere, I witness people’s every sentence, I change and write their history without them even noticing, but I’m alone. No phonetically adjacent consonants near me. Absolutely none. And I don’t want to be alone anymore. So yeah, no more involuntary lisp in conversation. It’s banned for life.

Aziraphale was watching him as though considering if scoff at him for his idiocy or envelop him in the fondness in his clear eyes. Maybe even give him a proper hug.[6]

-My dear... would you care to come closer? Just, stop hanging from the ceiling, all right?

Crowley let out a frustrated hiss, before remembering himself and shutting his mouth, going completely silent. No more drawn out sibilants, of course.

Carefully, and after a rather dramatic shrug that no one that defied universal laws such as the one of good old Isaac[7] should have been able to do that nonchalantly, he made his way[8] to a more gravitation - friendly position, on his feet, at the angel’s side.

Said angel now had a closed-off expression on his face, almost grim.

Crowley did _not_ panic.

-Okay, so, I’ll take my leave, think I overstayed my welcom-

-Do you have anything in particular on your mind that should alleviate your loneliness?

Crowley almost sputtered at that.[9] Problem is, the angel saw that.

A whirlwind of thoughts crossed his mind, overanalyzing every single interaction between him and the angel in the last twenty years, to see if he had been too heavy-handed in his wooing and tipped the other off on his hopeless unnecessary feelings.[10]

A spark of understanding lighted up Aziraphale’s pupils, getting the demon close to a stroke.[11]

-Any _one_? - Oh, but the angel looked too smug for his own good, with that knowing glint in his clear eyes[12].

Reeling and bewildered and a touch hurt at a so very blatant mocking of his (un)delicate sensibilities Crowley started to make his way out of the shop with every intention of never returning again[13], when the angel grabbed his arm, turning him around.

-Aziraphale forget what mph-

That was when Crowley’s mind stopped working, and all he could do was embracing Aziraphale as tightly as he was being held, pushed against a shelf, mouth suddenly occupied.

_You lovable bastard..._

[1] Because a Cool Demon™️ didn’t waste time doing such plebeian things such as plucking and shaving, they were simply that wondrous themselves.

[2] The Esteemed Reader shall not worry, he most certainly will not fall and break some bones- assuming he understood that human bones didn’t work quite like _that_

[3] Felt like feeling wanted for once, you know? (Obviously Crowley bit on his tongue before the words spilled out and crushed forever his relationship with the angel)

[4] He mentally shoved himself off a cliff for his base humor. Nothing to read. In a bookshop? He’s losing his touch

[5] Preposterous, what authors get up to. And entirely untrue! He was going to sue them out of spite. Maybe he could start by letting that x-rated stash material in their computers leak on their Instagram…

[6] Not that that’ll ever happen, obviously, "plenty of other people to fraternize with" and al’ that, Crowley reminded to his treacherous mind. And eyes. They were kind of hallucinating tonight, his damned yellow eyes.

[7] Crowley had been all too keen on dropping that apple on the fool's head, just to see what came out of it. And he was not disappointed.

[8] He quite literally _crawled_ but no one would dare to tell him.

[9] Almost. Because he was a Cool Demon ™️.

[10] He realized in despair that he HAD been.

Pathetic.

[11] Not that he could get one… anyway, it’s the sentiment that counts.

[12] The Esteemed Reader must understand that having the weight of your superiors’ (supposedly) watchful gaze and constant judgment lifted from your shoulders tends to give you more time to take notice of what is going on in the head of the demon you spent thousands of years with.

[13] A couple of months at most, his poor, wretched, unnecessary heart couldn’t bare more time away from the angel than that these days, even if it meant staring longingly and being made fun of in that gentle and not-so-gentle way at the same time that Aziraphale would surely adopt.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay folks, hello to everybody.  
> I’m Yanex, and if you have reached this point, congrats, you got through the first of (hopefully) many mad fics. English is not my native language, so, please, if there are errors, mishaps, strange expressions, let me know! Also, I’d be thrilled to hear what you think of the story. (Honestly I don't even know why while thinking of phonetics I thought of Crowley.)  
> Until next time!  
> Yanex


End file.
